Donovan's Sham Report Missing Key Information

COLUMN

July 13, 2012|Kevin Rennie, NOW YOU KNOW

There's nothing subtle about farce. It's broad storytelling. You can't mistake it for anything other than absurd — unless you willfully avert your gaze and pretend to see something that is not there. Speaker of the House Christopher Donovan wagered a not-yet-disclosed amount on a preposterous report by former U.S. Attorney Stanley Twardy that seeks to distance Donovan and his congressional campaign from alleged illegal fundraising activities for his benefit.

Ten lawyers can load a lot of whitewash onto six pages. The only ones fooled by it are those who refused to give it even a critical glance. Nearly all the primary players are missing from Twardy's production

Donovan's fundraising chief, Robert Braddock, was arrested by federal investigators in May, accused of arranging and accepting illegal contributions to the Democratic hopeful's campaign from people interested in legislation pending before the legislature. He declined to speak with Twardy.

Also responding with regrets to Twardy's invitation to talk were the others identified as co-conspirators in the federal affidavit that accompanied Braddock's arrest. The people at the center of the case, who may or may not be arrested, provided no information. One of those who gave Twardy a miss was Joshua Nassi, campaign director and former top aide to Donovan in the legislature.

Federal authorities delivered a forceful response to Twardy's report Wednesday with a detailed indictment of Braddock that mentions Donovan — referred to as "Public Official Number 1" — in an unflattering context. It says he talked with an unindicted co-conspirator in a "backstage area" at his May 14 party nominating convention, immediately before that co-conspirator went into a "back room" with a Donovan campaign aide and delivered $10,000 in disguised political contributions, $7,500 of which went to Donovan's campaign and the rest to the state Democratic Party.

Even without access to the crucial actors in Donovan's besieged operation, Twardy wrote that he could find no evidence that Donovan knew anything of the illegal activities at the center of his campaign. Further undermining the credibility of the report was Donovan's refusal to release a list, said to be in Nassi's handwriting, of seven bills before this year's legislature in which Donovan was one of the two most powerful players.

The list included a bill to regulate and tax roll-your-own tobacco shops. Large contributions, ostensibly from conduits for people in that business, started the trouble that dogs Donovan and his close associates, some of whom were fired. The six other bills on that list might give a sense more definitive than Twardy's speculation about the intersection of Donovan's campaign fundraising and his use of his position in the legislature.

Donovan's refusal to release the list of the seven bills, which may have passed or died during this year's legislative session, ought to be public. There's no reason to believe Twardy's conclusion when he cannot release one of the few pieces of evidence he has seen that would tell a story.

The report includes another damaging revelation for Donovan and his lamentable style of management. Laura Jordan, Donovan's powerful aide in the speaker's office, also refused to speak to Twardy. Jordan's position with Donovan allowed her to control the course bills took in the House during the legislative session. With Donovan busy running for Congress, Jordan enjoyed even more influence than her predecessor, Nassi, who was also her boyfriend until recently.

With Jordan's refusal to talk, on advice of her lawyer, about what she knew of the campaign, contributions and legislation, the costly farce collapses. Jordan knows how things work. She worked in the legislature before a brief turn with the Connecticut Hospital Association, a nest of influence peddlers. While there, she even appeared in a 2010 campaign commercial for her friend Secretary of the State Denise Merrill, claiming Merrill would stand up to special interests, while Jordan was working for an entrenched special interest.

Twardy, of course, possesses no power to compel anyone one, including Jordan, to speak to him. Donovan, however, does. Jordan, now under a cloud, still enjoys a lucrative job in state government. Donovan could require her to explain what she knows of contributions and lawmaking, but he would not want the public to hear the answers. It could be dangerous for Donovan to cross his Jordan.

Kevin Rennie is a lawyer and a former Republican state legislator. He can be reached at kfrennie@yahoo.com.